


Bring him home

by Diamondmask



Series: Promises and Scars [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Time, Flogging, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Loyalty, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamondmask/pseuds/Diamondmask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having found Merlin at the end of the long search, Arthur has to bring him home. With Merlin sick and injured this is no easy task.<br/>They find that the journey does not end with arrival and that home means more than castle walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My idiot

The ride was difficult. After they had gone some way from the inn Arthur dismounted and removed his armour, packing it on the mare, to reduce the weight on his horse but the going was still slow. He could feel the silent paroxysms in Merlin’s body as he fought against the cough trying to overwhelm him. To make matters worse, the wind and rain were back. By late afternoon Merlin was coughing audibly and Arthur could feel him growing weaker despite his efforts to maintain a casual banter. Arthur came to a decision.

“Gwaine? We need shelter and a fire – soon – go scouting”

“Yes Sire” Gwaine rode off, returning within an hour with a possible site – little shelter but plenty of wood for a fire.

The rain had eased off but the night was once again cold so the thought of a fire was welcome. Unfortunately neither Gwaine nor Leon could get the damp kindling to light. Arthur looked thoughtfully at Merlin lying uncomfortably beside a log, coughing sporadically.

“Merlin, could you light it?”

Merlin made to get up, favouring his weak leg but Arthur stopped him. “Not that way. You know how”

“You want me to.. here? In front of....? But?”

“Yes” Merlin looked into Arthur’s eyes and trusted.

“I’m out of practice. This may go wrong” He reached out his hand and sought for the words in his mind. He hoped he didn’t cough as he spoke. The gods only knew what that would do to a spell. “Get away from the wood” he called to Gwaine and Leon. Then his eyes flashed gold and he spoke in the old language. The pile of wood blazed beautifully. There was silence except for the crackling of burning. Merlin hoped that was not an omen.

“Yes, Merlin has magic. And I know. Do either of you have an issue with that?” Arthur’s voice was quiet but authoritative .

“It’s Merlin. Merlin could have fleas and I wouldn’t have an issue” said Gwaine.

“I probably do” muttered Merlin despondently.

“But Sire! The law! Your Father...” Leon stopped speaking. He had seen Arthur Pendragon look at a man that way before, but only in battle and only just before he killed him. At that moment he realised that he was more afraid of Arthur than Uther.

“No issues. None at all. I will stand by you”

“Good” said Arthur and looked down at Merlin, still sitting by the log awaiting his fate. When he saw his prince’s face, Leon remembered the floggings the prince had endured for this man and decided he would stand by Arthur – and Merlin – even without the fear.

“Now let’s eat” said Arthur briskly. Merlin struggled to his feet and limped over to the packs.

“Merlin, what are you doing?” Arthur called.

“Feeding you lot, what do you think”

“Today we do the cooking”

“I’ve eaten your cooking. I’d rather starve” Merlin paused suddenly and his expression darkened. “Well, maybe not starve” he said quietly, seeing into the darkness sights he would not share.

“At least we won’t give you rat” joked Arthur to lighten the mood.

“Rat would be a luxury” said Merlin softly and then was caught by a bout of coughing that left him shaking. Arthur ran to him and helped him sit again – finding the least damp place on the forest floor. As Gwaine and Leon fussed around sharing their limited supplies, Arthur sat beside Merlin.

“Why didn’t you run?” he asked. “Why didn’t you just get out”

“It’s not that easy for a slave. Especially a cripple” Merlin had not mentioned the leg before and Arthur wanted to ask what had happened but Merlin’s face brooked no questions.

“Then came the snow, and we wouldn’t have gotten far and besides, where could I go?”

“To me”

“I didn’t know that” Arthur felt the truth of that but it ripped him apart. “You could have used magic” he whispered. Merlin’s eyes looked panicked. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I promised. I gave you my word, my oath. Not for breaking..” Merlin started coughing again.

Arthur thought back to that fateful day when he had sent Merlin away. He had barely heard the promise and certainly had not accepted it. But Merlin had lived by it – suffered for it. “Don’t be angry please..” Merlin’s voice was desperate, pleading. “You have to understand – the promise. It is what kept me going. It was the only thing I had left of you. Of us. Of me. Keeping it kept me alive”

“It was killing you”

“Only on the outside. Sometimes it’s what’s on the inside that matters. It kept me alive inside” Arthur thought of his father, dead to any notions of honour or loyalty, interested only in the outside show of power and position and he understood. Merlin had stood true to his values; what meant most to him and lived. Uther had lashed out at everything that had thwarted him and had died inside. And suddenly, like a blinding revelation Arthur saw that what Merlin truly valued, what meant most to him was Arthur. The promise to him. Despite all he had endured for Merlin the knowledge that Merlin valued him too hit him like a lightning bolt. He physically jolted.

“Are you all right Arthur?” Merlin’s voice was concerned. Arthur looked at him, a smile lighting up his eyes. “I am very well Merlin, very well” Merlin felt he could live in the light of those eyes. “Well, that’s all right then” he said, without changing his gaze. “Yes it is” Arthur’s words were soft and Merlin felt his skin tingle just as it did when he felt his magic. Words did not matter – meaning was conveyed much more effectively by other means...

Gwaine, glancing over at the pair did not know whether to throw cold water or a blanket over them. He settled for bringing over dinner, interrupting a silent communication with bread, cheese and something hot that could not really be called soup. “Merlin” said Arthur, after they had eaten. “I hereby permit – no I order you to use your magic whenever you see fit – for whatever purpose you think is needed as long as it is safe to do so. Does that work with your promise?”

“Um? Even if it means tripping you up? Or knocking you out?”

“You wouldn’t do that to....” Arthur sighed “You have haven’t you?” he said as Merlin looked innocent. “We really need to talk about this magic”

“Probably best that we don’t” Merlin replied lightly. He looked around brightly, belying his need to cough and asked if any of them had a knife or a blade. “What for?” asked Gwaine. “M’beard. I want it off. Not really me”

“I think a beard gives a certain gravitas to a man” said Leon.

“Why did you let it grow if you don’t like it” asked Gwaine. He liked his beard. Merlin’s eyes shadowed. “It made me look older” . And less attractive, thought Gwaine, cursing himself for asking . “I have a knife” he said. “Sharp as a razor, I’ll shave you”

“Your blade couldn’t cut grass” mocked Leon, “I’ll make a better job of it”

“If you think I am going to let either of you bearded fools within an inch of Merlin’s throat with a blade you are idiots” Arthur called.

“I thought I was the idiot” murmured Merlin.

“You are my idiot and if you want your face shaved I will do it” Arthur replied.

“I just told you I tripped you up and knocked you out! Maybe I shouldn’t trust you at my throat with a blade?”

Arthur’s response was swift and in a surprisingly short time Merlin was left with only stubble.

“Now you look like yourself” Gwaine laughed.

But Merlin did not look like himself. His face was thinner and a long narrow scar ran between his right cheek and his hair. A new bruise was just forming under his eye and old bruises stood out, sickly yellow on his jaw. Merlin’s hand absentmindedly traced the line of the scar. “It’s nice to be me” he said softly. Then, turning to Arthur he asked hesitantly “Can I .. I mean I haven’t used.. would you mind..”

“Oh spit it out Merlin!” said Arthur impatiently.

“Could I .. play. With my magic I mean... I won’t if you don’t.. it’s just.. it’s been a long time”

“You play with Magic?” Arthur sounded stunned.

“Like this” Merlin said, producing a tiny spark on his palm and watching as it danced away. He followed it with others which swooped and soared around the makeshift camp, lighting shadows and illuminating the fascinated faces of the watchers.

“I never thought magic could be beautiful!” said Leon wonderingly.

“Only when it’s let” said Merlin, then gasped as the cough returned and the tiny lights went out. Arthur reached over and held the shuddering form. “It will be” he said softly.

None of them slept well that night. Merlin fought his coughs as much as he could but the effort exhausted him and he often failed. “Could you use magic?” Arthur asked. “To heal yourself”

“I don’t know how” Merlin said softly. “I don’t know what’s broken in me. I don’t know how to fix it” “Gaius will know. Gaius will fix it” Arthur spoke with certainty but felt none. “We’re going home” he whispered to Merlin. “I am bringing you home”


	2. Many welcomes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and the Knights bring Merlin back to Camelot but find that home is not safe. Arthur chooses to be loyal to his King and his friend and intends to take the consequences. Merlin has other ideas.
> 
> A little picture of loyalty.

Bringing Merlin home was not easy. The next day the rain and wind resumed and Merlin, huddled in Arthur’s arms was getting worse. There was no banter or magic lights the next night, just worried silence interspersed with painful, hacking coughs, followed by weak apologies.

“Stop saying sorry, Merlin” Arthur barked, then regretted it as Merlin tried even harder to suppress his coughs.  
It was a long night.

By noon the following day Camelot was in sight.

Merlin roused out of the semi-stupor he had been in as the familiar turrets came into sight.  
“Let me down” he said faintly. “I can’t ride in to Camelot in your arms. The King hates me already ... and it’s not...” He blushed. “I don’t want to look helpless”.

“Merlin, even in the best of health you fall off horses. You won’t look helpless, you’ll look like an idiot” Arthur sounded harsher than he felt and his worry made him irritated when Gwaine intervened . Gwaine remembered the hurt pride in the invisible voice back in the inn and somehow knew that riding into Camelot on his own was a start in restoring some of Merlin’s fractured identity.

“Oh let him ride” Gwaine drawled. “We need something to laugh at” Arthur growled but Merlin slipped from his grasp, landing awkwardly on his lame leg, and limped over to his own horse.

And so Merlin rode into Camelot behind Arthur and his knights. It was harder than he thought, his left leg would not grip, but he was aware of the little jennet tempering her stride to ease him. She lifted her head like a destrier carrying a king and trotted proudly through the town and into the castle. At the castle gates Arthur was greeted, then a murmur grew around the courtyard. “That’s his servant!” “It’s Merlin!” “He found him!”  
Arthur ignored the buzz and, dismounting, moved to ease Merlin down, but Gwaine was before him. “I have him Sire, I’ll take him to Gaius”. Arthur knew it would not help Merlin for the prince to be seen carrying his servant through the corridors of Camelot but his arms ached for the burden as he followed Gwaine to the physician’s chamber.

Gaius was overwhelmed when they arrived. “Merlin.. Oh my boy.. Merlin..” he gasped as he saw the pale figure now standing between Gwaine and Arthur. He directed a look at the latter. “Sire. You found him. You.. thank you” .

Merlin began to cough and Gaius winced. “How long” he said “has he been like this”  
“Since we found him, two days” said Gwaine.  
“Bout two weeks” Merlin gasped out, “maybe more”.  
“You need a warm bed and lots of rest” said Gaius but he looked worried. “I’ll heat a tisane to sooth that cough and you’ll be right as rain”  
“Don’t like rain much now” said Merlin. “It’s wet and it’s cold and makes me miserable. Could I be right as sunshine? like being warm”

“He’s delirious” said Gwaine.  
“No. He’s Merlin” said Arthur shortly. He turned to Gaius and his tone was businesslike. “He doesn’t know what needs to be healed so he cannot use magic. Help him with that” Gaius opened his eyes wide “Sire ... I never.. it is ..”  
“Against the law to use magic, yes I know. But given that he has been doing it for years at least show him how to save himself for once”.  
“Arthur!” said Merlin  
“What? I’ve been doing a lot of figuring things out over the last few months. I am not a complete idiot you know” Arthur tried to sound angry but failed.  
“I never thought you were complete” murmured Merlin, looking up from lowered eyelids. Arthur’s heart sang to see laughter in those eyes but was filled with despair again as the cough returned.

Just then Leon entered. “A messenger from the King” he said, giving warning of an intrusion. A guard entered. “Sire, his majesty requires your presence in the council chamber at once.” Arthur nodded.  
“Leon, with me. Gwaine, stay with Merlin. Gaius...” he did not finish the plea, but left the room quickly, Leon in his wake.

Uther called on Arthur to give his report on the outpost they had visited but asked no questions. When Arthur had finished the King, looking at his son coldly, said “ I note you returned with your missing servant”  
“Yes Sire”  
“I believe I ordered you to stop searching or face a penalty”  
Leon tried to speak “It was pure chance Sire..” but Arthur silenced him with a wave of his hand. Seeing his father before him Arthur knew the futility of facing an implacable refusal to listen and, with a pang, realised that he himself had done the same to Merlin on that cursed day when he had sent him away.  
“You did, Sire” he said. “I will report to the dungeon immediately”  
“No need” said the King. “Your whipping boy has returned.

oOo

Arthur’s heart stopped. Habit meant he gave the King a cursory bow of the head before he ran out of the room. His mind was in torment. In his current state this would kill Merlin he thought as he ran. For a moment he was indecisive: Gaius’ room or the dungeon? Then, thinking of his father he headed straight for the latter. Uther would not give him time to react. Merlin was already in trouble.

Sure enough there was a commotion in the corridor outside that room. Gwaine was bent double and gasping, while one guard lay beside the door looking concussed. The other guard, who had just used the butt end of his spear on Gwaine was not looking as Arthur appeared around the corner. Without stopping Arthur punched him heavily, dodged passed him and went through the door. Arthur knew this room well. The room was small – though big enough to flick a whip - and dark with the only light coming from a tiny window more than twenty feet above. The whipping post was at the centre of the room and in the gloom Arthur could see Merlin, stripped to the waist, chest against the whipping post, arms shackled to the manacles that hung from it. Red weals on his back indicated that the punishment had already begun.

Without thought, without conscious movement Arthur was in front of Merlin, wrapping his arms around the frail body before him, presenting his own back to the lash.

“Sire, move away. I know the King’s orders”

“And you always obey the King’s orders, Meclid as I know well” Arthur voice was bitter with remembered pain.

“To the letter”

The reply gave Arthur an inkling of an idea but before he could speak the room filled with armed men. Arthur’s shoulders sagged and he bowed his head to Merlin’s shoulder. Just once, he thought, just once could things go smoothly? And then a voice told him that maybe the universe did not hate him after all.

“We’ll take him down now Sire” said Lancelot. He pushed forward towards Merlin. Behind him were Elyan and Percival. And Leon. They had even dragged Gwaine, still looking rough into the small cell.

For a moment, the time it takes for one thought to replace another, Arthur contemplated letting Merlin go It would be rebellion. The first act against a king he no longer respected but who was still his father. Somehow he knew these men would stand with him. It was possible. But instantly he knew he would not. The cost to Camelot would be too great. Her enemies would stream over the borders and any semblance of peace would be gone. In his many searches Arthur had come to see a Camelot he had not known before. Ordinary people, whom he once scorned with the word ‘peasants’ but now, as the result of his travels were imbued with faces, and dreams and real lives that would be shattered if their ‘betters’ went to war. Simple people who worked hard to live, but who shared what they had and cared for each other and put their faith in lords and kings who saw them only as rents and tenants and, yes, servants. Could protecting one servant tip all of them into the hell that is war? But this was Merlin.

“Leave him” his voice was dull.

“Sire?”

“Leave him” Arthur sighed and without leaving his place he removed his shirt, baring his back.

“Meclid, you will carry out the King’s orders to the letter. You have Merlin here at the post. You have drawn blood. You will complete the sentence.”

“Ten lashes. Eight to go” said Meclid.

“In his condition he can't take it. He’ll die, Arthur,” said Leon softly.

“No he won’t” said Arthur, putting his arms around Merlin again and covering his body with his own.

“Begin” Merlin bucked and struggled.

“No Arthur! NO! I won’t let you .. you can’t..”

“Shhh” said Arthur but Merlin continued to struggle and then began to chant low and firm. His eyes glowed.

“Don’t you dare!” said Arthur fiercely as Leon reached out and covered Merlin’s eyes and Gwaine began to groan theatrically and loudly. But there were no dramatic crashes – not even a display of pretty lights. And the lash fell.

 

Arthur wondered if the scars he had built up over the autumn had formed calluses protecting his back as he barely felt the first blow. He had noted the whip Meclid was using was heavy with metal tips but this blow felt no more than that dealt by his elderly tutor when he was a boy – and he had early learned to ignore that. When the second blow fell with as little impact Arthur almost relaxed. Until he realised the body in his arms had jumped with the fall of the lash.

“What have you done?” he growled into Merlin’s ear, then felt him gasp and tense as the third blow fell. “You took the pain? Merlin!” Arthur almost sobbed, tightening his hold on the shaking body in his arms.

“W’share” Merlin said softly, then hissed at the fourth impact.

Five. Merlin’s lame leg failed him and he would have hung from the manacles were it not for the strong arms holding him.

Six. Merlin’s quiet groan turned into a paroxysm of coughs which shook his frail frame.

Seven. Arthur could feel the blood running down his back but was conscious only of Merlin, gasping in his arms.

Eight. Merlin relaxed as he lost consciousness.

Meclid wanted to leave. The baleful stares of the angry knights burned through him. It was just a job. His job. But right now he thought he could take any other job. Like cess pit cleaner or archery target. He dropped the whip and moved to the door. Percival’s arm reached out for him.

“What will you tell the king?”

“I fulfilled his order. To the letter”

He left.

Inside the room there was silence.

Lancelot unlocked the manacles and Arthur lowered Merlin’s body to the floor. The knights were filled with confusion as to why Merlin had fainted mixed with growing respect for Arthur’s insouciance in the face of the deep weals on his back. Arthur could not bear their undeserved respect.

“He took the pain” he said shortly, with mingled fury and sorrow. “I felt nothing” Gwaine groaned and Leon went pale. Arthur noticed dawning understanding appear in Lancelot’s face but Elyan and Percival looked confused. Lancelot stepped forward, picking up Arthur’s discarded jacket. “We need to get you to Gaius without drawing attention to your back”

Arthur bent to pick up Merlin’s recumbent body but Leon, putting his hand on the prince’s wrist, stayed him. “You cannot carry him my lord, even if you do not feel it. Your back will be injured even more. Let me. It would be my honour”

With a soft gasp Merlin awoke. “M’fine” he said, struggling to his feet. “I can walk. No need to ..”

“You are not meant to be fine” said Lancelot, trying to cover Arthur’s still bleeding back with his doublet. Merlin’s eyes widened as he saw the blood. “I can fix that” he said nervously. He limped forward and putting his hands gently on Arthur’s back he reached out for his magic. Arthur felt a warm glow over his back and heard the gasp of his men. The ripped and torn welts knitted together leaving narrow red marks. “You’ll still have scars” said Merlin sadly “He already has” Gwaine murmured. Silence grew as the realisation of magic settled among them. “That ” said Percival impassively “could be useful” “Sire?” said Elyan. Gwaine gripped his wrist. “”Yeah, we need to talk” he said

“Um” said Merlin “I might be going to pass out again”

Arthur caught him.


	3. Home, where my thought's escaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the King's punishment Merlin's illness worsens. Arthur remembers the Search and all he learned since Merlin was gone. 
> 
>  
> 
> Warning - reference to Child Death.

Bringing the Prince and his manservant to the physician’s chamber without incident turned out to be an anti-climax. The corridors were empty and Gaius was waiting, his face drawn and old.  When he examined Merlin’s back he drew in a breath

“Not as bad as I feared. The King was merciful”

“Not exactly” said Gwaine as the knights left the room.

“What does that mean?” Gaius asked.

“It means that Arthur is a dollophead” said Merlin, his voice rasping

“That’s Prince Dollophead to you” said Arthur coolly while gently ruffling Merlin’s hair in an absent minded way, then, turning to Gaius he added “He keeps passing out and that cough....”

“Twice is not keeps” snapped Merlin, but was stopped by a cough. The fact was he felt awful and did not think he could keep up the stroppy manservant facade much longer. He hurt, and breathing was getting harder. He could not decide if he wanted to sleep or cry or....

“His fever is very high Sire” said Gaius in a low tone, “and his lungs... It will not be easy Sire. He is very ill”

“Fix him Gaius.” Arthur sounded like a child with a broken toy. “Do anything. Do everything. Don’t let...” he choked. For a moment he just wished the whole thing had not happened –that the world could return to the way it had been before he broke it. He was so tired, so worn down and seemed that each day brought new sorrows.  

“I will do what I can Sire”

 

In the morning Merlin was no better, if anything he was worse.

Arthur, fearing that he would draw his father’s wrath by staying, confined himself to a quick update before going about his duties. But for some reason some of his knights seemed to be remarkably accident prone that day. There was one, or more often two, sitting in Gaius’ room fiddling with the jars and herbs and complaining loudly of strained muscles or torn nails when anyone entered. They continued to be accident prone for the next two days.

On the third night Gaius sent Leon (who unaccountably needed something for an upset stomach) to fetch Arthur.

“He is slipping in and out of delirium” Gaius said. “He calls for you. Maybe you can..” The old man looked exhausted; but more than that Arthur knew it grieved him to his soul to see his surrogate son so near... No. Arthur would not think of that.

Merlin was tossing on the low bed when Arthur entered. Arthur noted again how bleak the room was. He had come in here in the first week of Merlin’s absence.

 

“He’s taken everything” he had said.

“He’s taken nothing, Sire” said Gaius. “This is all he owns”

Arthur had looked around at the paltry possessions. What little to show for a life. He had picked up a tunic lying on the bed – the only clothing in the room.

“It’s dirty” he had said absently.

“Merlin was in the stocks before he.. It gets messy”

Arthur had dropped the tunic and left the room. His thoughts were as bleak as the room. He had given Merlin nothing. He had hurt him and let him go into the dark with nothing. That was when he decided to search.

 

 

As he sat beside the humble bed with its thin coverlets, (supplemented by blankets from six beds) he reflected on the months of searching. He had visited almost every village and hamlet in Camelot. He had slept in hovels that made Merlin’s home in Ealdor seem a palace. He was now on first name terms with shepherds and goatherds and woodsmen. And all the time he was learning. He now knew more of the kingdom than any Prince there had ever been.

 

Once the snow set in he had been confined to the castle and the town. He did not take another servant. Instead looking after the Prince was divided among a few of the general staff. There was Dickon, slow of speech and of gait, who carried the bath water and did the heavy work. (Dickon had chilblains on his hands that bled when it was cold. Arthur gave him an old pair of gloves and won his enduring devotion). Meg, from the kitchen did general tidying. She had a nasty scald on her arm where boiling water had splashed on her. Arthur had sent her to Gaius for a healing salve which eased the pain despite her protestations that the King’s own Physician would not treat a servant. Jinny filled in when the others were not around. She was tiny and Arthur had found her struggling up the stairs with a bucket of water. He had carried the bucket and, noting the weight, respected Merlin for doing this every day.  Tom looked after the stables. Tom was walking out with a girl from a little hamlet beyond the woods. (Arthur knew the hamlet; ten houses and a small mill, the cow had died but they had had a good harvest and saved a good supply of food.) Arthur had set aside a purse of silver pennies as a wedding gift for Tom.

 

During the snow, while sharing out his rations he saw a different side to the town folk. In one tiny house teeming with ill-clad children a little girl had tugged at his doublet. He turned expecting a demanding hand held out. Instead he saw a tiny (rather dirty) face with big eyes and a gap-toothed smile looking at him.

“I seed you with Merlin”

“Yes?”

“Is he your friend?

“Yes” It was the first time he had said it, the first time he had admitted it to himself and his shock at the truth almost made him deaf to the girl’s chatter.

“Merlin is my friend. He fixeded my hand when it was sore.” She held out a grubby hand with a faint scar.

“He fixeded my brother’s leg too but Rob still throwed things at him in the stocks. I don’t like Rob. He’s a dollophead”

The word lanced through Arthur like a knife. Only one person could have taught her that.  He tried to speak to cover his confusion.

“Did you throw things?”

“No! Merlin doesn’t like the stocks. He laughs but his eyes make me sad and then I get a tummy ache. I washeded his face once when the boys were horrible and throwed nasty things. He gived me a flower. I like Merlin”

“I like Merlin too” whispered Arthur, guilt tearing at him.

Rosie – for that was her name, did not survive the winter. Arthur had been given the news when he visited a few weeks later. Some childhood ailment, her mother had not been specific. She had many children and had lost others, Rosie was not her favourite. But Arthur had cried. He had once told Merlin that no man was worth his tears but he had found himself crying for the death of a peasant girl whose own mother did not care enough to grieve.

 

Merlin stirred, breaking his melancholy reverie.

“Arthur?”

“I am right here”

“Promise.. I promise”

“Shh.. use your magic, sleep”

Merlin slept.

“Arthur?”

“Here”

“My King”

“Shh, sleep”

Merlin slept.

“Arthur?”

“Hm m?”

“Why is your hair sticking up and you’re all stubbly and whew! you stink?”

“Good morning Merlin, I see you are much better”

“I am not better! I hurt and I am all uncomfortable and the bed has lumps and..”

Arthur stooped and absent-mindedly kissed Merlin on the forehead.

“Drink whatever vile potions Gaius gives you, eat his horrible gruel and I will see you later. I have a council meeting to attend and as you say, I stink” he said.

Arthur moved to the door. “Gaius! He’s awake!” he called.

“Arthur?”

“Yes”

“Did you just...?”

“Shut up Merlin”


	4. Home where my love lies waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin returns to his duties where he finds how Arthur has grown in his absence. But their new relationship is tested when Merlin is reminded of his time at the Inn
> 
> Warning: Reference to past rape

Merlin’s progress was steady but slow. Gaius estimated that in three weeks Merlin would be fit to return to work but Uther had other ideas.

“Isn’t that servant of yours back working yet?” he asked after a council meeting.

“He has a lot to recover from” Arthur said shortly.

“Camelot does not support those who do not work. Have him back immediately or dismiss him. You have done more than your duty by him. He owes you service.”

Arthur bit back a reply and was silent.

Uther changed his tone. “My son, you know I do these things to teach you. To show you how to be a King”

“And I am learning, Sire, I am learning” was all Arthur said.

 

And so it was that two weeks after their return from the moors, Merlin was in Arthur’s room when the Prince returned from training, a steaming bath ready and a meal laid on the table. Merlin was wheezing slightly as Arthur entered the room.

“Tell me you did not carry that water yourself” Arthur asked crossly while trying not to grin.

“Um, No. I had help” Merlin did not mention the way the servants in the kitchen were tripping over themselves to help.

“Meg, she works in..” he began.

“I know who she is”

“Well, she boiled the water and Dickon....?”

“Yes I know him too”

“He did most of the carrying. Um. How come you know the names of the servants?” inquired Merlin

“You’ve been gone a long time Merlin”

“Yes, well, how many servants’ names did you know before I took the job as your servant?”

“What is it with the questions?, Merlin” Arthur was tired so it came out more annoyed  than he intended. Merlin understood.

“It’s just; They like you” he said happily

“Of course they do, I’m the Prince” Arthur tried not to sound smug but failed.

 

Merlin smiled. They had not referred to ‘The’ prince. They said ‘our prince’. “Our Prince likes the water just so” Don’t forget the honeycakes, our prince likes them” “Make sure you check his shoulder, our Prince had a nasty fall in training” Somehow, while he had been gone, Arthur had let the servants see what Merlin had always known was there and they had responded with love. As he had done.

“You are ‘their’ prince Sire.” he said. “As you are my King” he added softly. 

“The King lives. You speak treason.” Arthur’s voice was low.

 

 

“I am pretty much under potential sentence of death anyway” said Merlin, “What’s another capital crime. He can’t kill me twice”

 “I’m serious, Merlin, I have no influence with my father. If you do anything out of order he will hurt you, if he sees you do magic, you will die.” _and so will I_  was unspoken as Arthur tried to convey his desperation at his helplessness.  “Please? Please be careful.” Merlin hushed him, then leaned in and kissed the prince full on the lips.

 

 

Arthur was startled but not so startled to forget to kiss back. At first it was tentative but quickly that was replaced with passion until:

“A’ur?”

“Hm?”

“Can’t breathe”

They pulled apart.

“Can you not breathe because of how wonderful I am or because you really can’t breathe?” Arthur asked, half laughing, half concerned.

“Bit of both” Merlin answered, eyes laughing.   “So, what now?”

“Well, I could throw you on the bed and ravish you right now” Arthur joked.

 

 

The laughter drained from Merlin’s face as his whole posture stiffened and his hand balled into fists. “I have to go. Gaius wants.....”He turned for the door.

“Gods! No! Merlin!” Arthur was distraught at the effect his thoughtless words had had. “Don’t leave! Merlin!”  Merlin put his hand on the door.

“Please, Merlin, please, Don’t leave because I am a prat! Please?. Give me the chance I never gave you, please, wait...”

Merlin turned.

 

“I wanted to die” he said dully.  “When he came and said that there were more guests who wanted.... I wanted to die. I willed death. I didn’t know it was you.”  He went silent for a moment.

“They tied me. There were four of them. They tied me up and then they....they took turns ...It hurt. I screamed. They were laughing and joking. It sounded like you and the others on a hunt except I was screaming and then.. I couldn’t scream because...  and that was worse and they wouldn’t stop and they laughed about fucking a servant and I couldn’t stop them and I thought they would help when they arrived because knights should help and I WENT TO THEM I went to them.....” sobbing choked Merlin’s voice.

 

“They were knights?” Arthur’s voice was cold. “Of Camelot?”

 

Merlin whispered. “They knew me. One of them used my name” 

 

Emotions swirled like colours in Arthur’s mind. Rage stormed through him. He wanted to tear and gouge and maim and kill. But he also wanted to step forward and fold Merlin in his arms and keep him safe. More than anything though, he felt sick. Running to the garderobe Arthur retched until his stomach was empty. When the heaving stopped he moved to the table and washed out his mouth with the wine Merlin had placed there. Merlin had not moved from the door. He stood with his head bowed and eyes dead.

 

Arthur tried to keep his voice steady.

“When was this”

“At the time of the mid winter feast”

Arthur nodded recalling the Landlord’s words

“When the whore died” he said.

 

Merlin looked up sharply, his glance fierce.

“Dedra” he said “Her name was Dedra and she was kind and funny and kept me sane and she wasn’t a whore she was a slave like me. Unless ...”. His eyes rounded in horror, flicking to where Arthur had retched  “You think I..?”

 

Arthur broke in quickly “You are not a whore Merlin, I do not think that”. He moved towards Merlin but before he reached him, Merlin broke. Since the moment in the mud above the inn he had tried to suppress his trauma, tried to _be_ Merlin But now the dam broke. He sobbed uncontrollably, his voice incoherent.

 

“I didn’t.. .They.. .I ...”

 

Arthur reached out and held him as he wept violently as though he could wash away his pain with his tears. And then Merlin’s pain turned to anger. He pushed Arthur away, emphasising each word with another violent shove until Arthur reached the table.

 

“And, You!  You insufferable prat! You let me go! You wouldn’t listen and you wouldn’t understand and you let me go! You broke my heart...”

 

Arthur was surprised that a part of him was able to think that six months earlier his anger would have flamed and he would had raged back. But his time of search had taught him and he absorbed the blows, accepted the truths and held the man. Until he winced as Merlin hit too hard on his shoulder (he really had had a nasty fall in training)

 

“And now I’ve hurt you and you have been hurt because of me too much and they told me what your father did and it’s not fair  ..” Merlin sobbed again.

“Ssh” Said Arthur gently. “Ssh”

Merlin was by now a damp (and rather snotty) mess and judging from the way he was swaying, was finding it difficult to stand. Arthur wondered what to do next. Somehow his training in royal protocol did not cover this situation.

 

“I’ve even let your bath go cold” Merlin whimpered quietly.

“Can’t you do something about that?” Arthur whispered

 

“With Magic? Yes!” Relieved to have something he could do, Merlin disengaged from Arthur’s arms and limped towards the cooling bath. With a dip of his hand in the water and muttered incantation the water steamed. Merlin turned to the prince. “Your bath is ready, Sire”

 

Arthur moved to Merlin and gently removed his neckerchief. “Tonight” he said. “I serve you”

 

Merlin stood still as Arthur reached over and raised his tunic. His eyes were dark and his fists clenched slightly. Arthur intended this to be a ceremonial disrobing, like that of a knight at his ritual bath, but things got complicated. In a moment he was faced with a writhing, headless Merlin enveloped in cloth.

 

“You’re not very good at this” came a muffled voice beneath the folds (how could there be so much fabric in such a thin shirt? _Oh Gods, it was so thin_ )

“I haven’t had much experience” said the exasperated prince. How was it, that being with Merlin could swing from high drama to farce in a few moments? But then that was what he loved about the man. One of the things.

“I’m glad to hear it” said Merlin, grinning as he emerged from the tunic. “Just like me when I came to work for you”

Arthur had never thought of that before; that Merlin was a bad servant because he didn’t know how to be a good one. _Just as well_ he thought.

 

 

“I” he said “am a fast learner”  

“Um, Arthur?”

“What?”

“You can’t untie laces from the inside”

“Really?” Arthur’s voice was smug as he pulled Merlin’s breeches over his hips.

And then the mood changed again.

 

 

Merlin was thin. So very thin. But that was not the worst.  On his left leg, from the hip to the knee, was a livid wound, still purple but starting to scar.

Arthur reached out and traced the length of the wound without touching it.

“Sword?” he queried

“Axe”

“Of course, the angle... A blow that strong would have cracked the bone?”

“It did”

“Oh Merlin” Arthur’s voice was thick with unshed tears as he reached forward. “When?”

“Soon after I was taken”

“Has Gaius seen it?”  Merlin nodded.

“What did he say?”

“He said there’s not much he can do now – the damage is done” Merlin turned away.

“Now, about this bath?” he said, “It is meant for me, you said? It’s getting cold again. Must I do everything? You really are the worst servant ever!”

 

 Arthur recognised another of what he would now call a Merlin moodswitch. He had never noticed before how Merlin’s switches from counsellor to fool came when he was hurting. But he played along. If Merlin wanted the farce he would play the fool too.

 

And it was needed. Getting Merlin into the bath without falling over involved far more splashing than Arthur thought necessary. Once in, Arthur took on the servant’s duty. Taking a cloth he gently wiped down Merlin’s back, noting the marks from two weeks before but seeing older scars beneath. _We match_ he thought wryly. Then Merlin spoke.

“Arthur?”

“Yes”

“Before,  when I pushed you... I was angry..”

“You had a right to be” Arthur’s voice was quiet.

“But .. I realise... you were angry when you.... when we.... when I ....left. It was your right”

“No”

“I lied to you”

 

Arthur leaned down to Merlin’s neck, with tendrils of hair, newly cut and damp from the steam.

“You lied to me because you were afraid that when I found out I would do exactly what I did do” he whispered.

 

“Um. No?” said Merlin “Actually I was afraid you would burn me” his voice was light but higher than normal and the way he said burn made Arthur’s gut clench _Oh gods,_ he thought, _I could have – I could have_

 

 

“What I am trying to say Arthur,” said Merlin softly “is that it is not your fault, what happened me. I made my choices and ...they didn’t work out. I’m not your responsibility”

 

Arthur stilled. He felt as if his heart was being crushed. “You want to leave?” he forced out through teeth clamped shut with tension.

“No! Gods! No” Merlin tried to get up and turn but the combination cause him to splash back.

 

 “I don’t want to leave you! What would make you think that you Clotpole! I just want to be at your side, When there’s trouble?, to be beside you, not hiding behind you, and if.. if anything should happen me ... that you know it was my choice.. that you won’t take... that you won’t... Arthur, what you did for me.. the search – the – what your father did to you... I love you for it but it was too much. You could have died! You’re too important for that. Please Arthur, don’t make me your weakness.”

 

Merlin stopped as Arthur came around to face him.

 

“You love me?” said Arthur, cupping Merlin’s face in his hands.

 

“That’s all you got from that? Really? Arthur?” Merlin’s voice was irritated but his face nuzzled into the hands that held him and he had no objection to raising his lips as Arthur leaned in for a kiss.

This was not a safe manoeuvre under the circumstances and a few rather damp minutes later Arthur pulled Merlin to his feet. “Merlin” He said. “I think we need a bigger bath”

“We have a bed?” said Merlin, eyebrows raised

“My bed” said Arthur.

“Oh, right so” said Merlin “I’ll just leave then”

“Don’t you dare” said Arthur, pulling him close and kissing him roundly.

 

 

And suddenly they were aware, as skin met skin, of their need for each other. Their breath quickened as their eyes met.

“We need the bed” said Merlin thickly

But Arthur dropped to one knee and said in a low voice “I said, tonight I serve you”

Merlin was half hard and Arthur gently took him into his mouth.  Merlin mewled with surprise but Arthur carried on. He had never done this before so his first licks were tentative but he grew in confidence as Merlin moaned his pleasure. Arthur learned to interpret each variation in sound to determine what exactly Merlin liked. Suddenly Merlin pulled away and came over Arthur’s shoulder in shuddering gasps. He pulled Arthur closer and it took only a few strokes for the Prince to come also.

 

They stayed in the embrace for a minute or so, relishing in the closeness, when Merlin, his head on Arthur’s (sticky) shoulder said

“Arthur, we need to take another bath”

“I am not putting you back in there – it is far too splashy, you’ll make do with a cloth” said Arthur in his best ‘prince’ voice.

“So no more serving me then?” said Merlin, laughing

“Oh, I didn’t say that” smirked Arthur “I just think the bed would be better”

“That’s my idea”

“Yes, but it is my bed” said Arthur, getting the washcloth from the by now cold bath. Soon afterwards, Merlin discovered that Arthur had tickles and they were breathless with giggles when they finally reached the bed.

 

 

And that was how they first came together, damp and chilly (the fire had died down while they were distracted), fumbling and laughing. Arthur, if he had dared to dream of this at all would have imagined more dignity and ceremony but decided as he held a drowsy Merlin in his arms, that laughing while loving was not a bad way to begin. He tightened his hold as he felt Merlin tense slightly. “What is it?” he asked.

 

Merlin turned in his arms to look at him. “I was just remembering; a few weeks ago I lay on the floor of the woodshed, cold and heartsick and I willed myself to die and here I am...”

“Home” interrupted Arthur

“Yes, in Camelot”

“In my arms” said Arthur softly

And Merlin agreed. Home was in Arthur’s arms.   

 


End file.
